


Redvolution

by fossileater, Wubcats



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Family Fluff, Humor, Space Battles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-09-21 03:43:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9530123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fossileater/pseuds/fossileater, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wubcats/pseuds/Wubcats
Summary: Long before Lance discovered the blue lion and a team of paladins lead by Shiro rose up to protect the galaxy from the galra, a team lead by Emperor Zarkon and King Alfor prowled the galaxies. As the paladins grow ever closer to their respective lions, the paladins themselves grow farther apart. Overtaken by distrust and a lust for control, Voltron is no longer anyone’s savior. Can the red paladin stand her ground against her proud Emperor and his black lion to protect her newborn son and her husband, Clint, or will Red be one more lost to the war?*Updates on Tuesdays





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out our tumblr at: http://redvolutionfanfic.tumblr.com

The hard echo of King Alfor’s boots on the metal floor rang out along the empty corridor. The unusual emptiness was unsettling after so many quintants of Galra and Alteans laughing and exchanging data as they hurried to the next set of tests to run on their project. Alfor, however appreciated this short reprieve and took this time to reflect upon how far his teams had come.

As it always tends to be when dramatic events occur, the day Alfor had been visiting Lord Zarkon was a peaceful day. The two leaders met every quintant to talk about the growth of their respective peoples and discuss trade routes as well as important upcoming events over a small lunch. Alfor was laughing heartily at one of Zarkon’s sly jokes when one of the Galra guards rushed in. Tripping over her apology for interrupting, she gave a report of a massive meteor impact just outside of the city’s gates. The two leaders glanced at each other before Zarkon rose and motioned for the Galra to show them to the impact site.

Meteorite strikes were commonplace for many of the planets that were under Alfor’s protection. His allies sent him damage reports often enough that there was an entire Altean team dedicated to sending supplies and medics as needed. In turn, the allies supplied them with samples and data on the meteorite to help improve defense systems for future impacts. As Alfor and Zarkon stood on the precipice of a newly formed cliff side and looked down upon the massive rock sunken into the ground, Alfor quickly realized that this was no ordinary meteorite. The Galra guards who had been slowly climbing down to approach it stopped as Alfor called out to them and slid down to meet them. He stumbled as he landed and turned to clasp Zarkon’s armor plated shoulder as the Galra leader stopped unsteadily beside him. Alfor cautiously approached the rock and the sound of a steady hum became apparent as he neared. The hairs on his arms stood on end and his heart beat rapidly when the meteorite began to glow and sparks danced along its surface. “Quintessence,” he said breathlessly.

Plans were immediately drawn up as Altean scientists and Galra engineers were rapidly hired. The meteorite was divided into five pieces, all with their quintessence carefully preserved inside. Zarkon divided the workers into teams and sent them off with their respective pieces to different planets to work on them. A massive weapon such as the one they were building would be better off built in separate locations before it was joined together. Alfor extended his stay in the Galra’s domain as both he and Zarkon worked together on the largest and the most important piece of the weapon: the black lion. As sections of the lion were built and molded from the original meteorite, the Alteans and their king redirected the flow of quintessence into its new shape. They were careful to make sure the quintessence was kept “clean” so that when the time came, the weapon would be used only for keeping peace and allowing the kingdoms to grow with prosperity. At least, that was what the leaders were hoping for. 

By imbedding quintessence within the lions, they were giving them a life of their own. In order for the weapon to “listen” to them, the lions would have to choose a trustworthy paladin to pilot them. If the lion did not want someone to pilot it, there would be no chance of the pilot using it at all. Thus, excitement spread through the lands as many fighters and adventure seekers came forward to volunteer as paladins. They were never allowed to see the work going on, a precaution taken in case of any with foul intentions. Instead, they were housed outside and promised to be called upon when the time came. And now, the time was closer than it had ever been before.

King Alfor opened the doors to the massive bay where the completed black lion stood before an elevated gangway where his team along with Lord Zarkon were waiting for his arrival. With a massive grin, Alfor quickly walked up the staircase and made his way through the team members who gave nods and returned his grin in various greetings. Zarkon moved aside, allowing room for Alfor to stand beside him as the young leaders turned their backs towards the black lion and faced their team.

“It has been an honor working with each and every one of you on this massive undertaking. Together we have created something great, something that nothing in the entire known universe can ever compare too. And without all of you it never would have been possible. I congratulate not only the team that stands before us today, but also the teams who have completed the red, blue, green, and yellow lions as well. Today, marks a new chapter in our history, and I hope that Voltron, and the five paladins who pilot it, continue to write of victories and peace upon its pages. Thank you.” The team cheered and as the leaders turned to face the black lion. Zarkon pulled out the remote and together the two keyed in the activation sequence and turned their keys.

A low and fierce rumble rolled out of the lion and into their cores. Quintessence surged through its metallic veins and licked its way up to the heart of the beast. Yellow flickered across the glass eyes as the black lion awakened. The team stood in awe as the lion peered down upon them, traces of quintessence tentatively snaking through the air around them. It brushed through their hair and whispering passed their ears before collecting upon Zarkon. The Galra leader’s yellow eyes widened as it forged with the core of his being and the bond between the black lion and its paladin was created.

The silence was broken by whoops and cheers as the Alteans and Galra jumped and embraced each other for joy. Their hard work had finally paid off and the project was a success. Lord Zarkon blinked and finally looked away from the intense stare of the black lion. He spotted a look of broken pride as an incredibly let down Alfor shook his head and takes a deep breath. As soon as the expression appeared, it was wiped away, replaced with a happy grin. The young king clasped Zarkon’s hands, all signs of personal turmoil shoved aside. “Congratulations, my friend!” Zarkon withdrew from him and cleared his throat.

“Yes, thank you. I hope you do not mind that I stay here with the lion while you check on the others? I would like to test out the bond and make sure there are no further issues.”

“Of course, I will report back to you when the remaining paladins are ready. Do you want the team to stay as well and keep track of the data feedback?”

Zarkon immediately shook his head. “No, the bond between the black lion and I is one test that the team will not be able to act upon.” Alfor agreed and after a few doboshes of continued congratulations and handshakes, Zarkon was alone. He walked over to the glass container that held the black paladin’s suit and decided he would not need it. Climbing up another staircase and stepping upon the head of the black lion, Zarkon’s own head was held high.

King Alfor, however, did not have his head held high. Hurt that the black lion did not find him worthy enough to be its paladin, he warped to the planet that housed the blue lion.


	2. Chapter Two

Upon arrival on the planet of the blue lion, King Alfor’s heart rate increased with anticipation. As he moved briskly off toward the blue lion, he acknowledged those who greeted him. He was anxious to meet the lion, remaining hopeful that although the black lion had chosen Zarkon, perhaps the blue lion would decide to grace him with its trust. The Altean leader strode towards his trusted advisor and another Altean under his advisor’s command whose name escaped him at the moment. 

“Coran,” Alfor greeted his advisor in a curt tone, smiling comfortably. He nodded at the other Altean in recognition, but said nothing to him. Coran stumbled over his greeting, awkward as always. 

“High quintant, my liege,” he finally managed to spit out, bowing at the waist. 

Alfor laughed heartily. “My friend, have I not told you enough that formalities are not needed?” he murmured as he clapped his hand on his advisor’s shoulder. “How is the blue lion?” 

“It’s all coming together,” Coran responded. “Right this way.” He started to lead King Alfor towards the blue lion. “It should be waking soon,” Coran murmured, looking up at the looming figure expectantly. 

As if on cue, the drone of the lion’s rolling purr filled the air, sending people scrambling towards the lion in hopes of becoming its paladin. The Altean King stared up at the lion with bated expectation. He reached with his mind, reaching to grasp the lion’s and form the connection, but no contact was made; at least, not with him. People scattered as the lion made its first steps, not towards Alfor, but past him, standing before the Altean under Coran’s command whose name he was now racking his brain to recall. It didn’t take long to figure out what it was; Coran was practically yelling it at the top of his lungs in excitement. 

“Nafine! Nafine, you rascal!” Before the newly claimed paladin knew what had hit him, Coran was pulling him off to put on the armor and get in the lion for a test drive. Curiosity drew Alfor after them. He wanted to see what the lion saw in Nafine. Perhaps, he could figure out what he was lacking. Why the lions had cast him aside. Perhaps, he would be able to understand why he wasn’t the right fit. To say that he was unabashed would be a gargantuan lie. Truth be told, he was humiliated. He’d worked so hard, orchestrating the construction of the lions, and what was his thanks? Being cast aside. He tried to push the bitterness out of his head, or at least, push it to the back. It was easier to forget about and focus on other matters when Nafine gripped the clutches and attempted to ease the lion into movement after they had boarded. 

Nafine clearly had little to no piloting experience, and it didn’t help that the lions’ controls were more advanced than any Altean or Galra technology that had come before it. The lion jerked forward, people running for cover as it closed the distance between the water’s edge in a leap and a bound. And then, it was flying, claws grazing the water, sending spray up on either side and onto the windshield. The raw power the lion possessed was breathtaking. It seemed to be acting on its own, Nafine helplessly floundering to control it. His wild emotions only seemed to make the lion more restless. Nafine’s mind shorted completely when the lion dipped suddenly and dived into the water. Fish scattered as the lion jettisoned past, even quicker now that it was underwater. The pilot yelled as he jerked the joysticks backward, causing the lion to cut its accelerators and glide in the water until it stopped. Nafine was practically gasping for breath, Coran’s knuckles white in his death grip on the back of the pilot seat, and Alfor’s eyes were wide as he stared out the bay window at the endless sea before them.

Clouds of sand were displaced as the lion’s feet landed on the ocean floor, front end angled forward as the ground dipped harshly downward into darkness. The light was already dim, so far below the surface, but to go down there would be to test fate. If they were to get lost down there, they may never see the light of the surface again. Nevermind what lived down in the depths. Nobody had ever been down that far; there’d simply never been the means to achieve it. The lion seemed to sense the Alteans’ uncertainty, and fed off of it. With a powerful leap, the lion pushed off of the ground and was hovering over the open abyss. All three of the Alteans yelled as the lion rocketed downward, farther and farther into the eternal nothingness without provocation. The pilot’s chamber was bathed in a cool blue light as the overhead lights came on, although it did little beyond the viewing shield. A beeping sounded as a target appeared on the shield, but the Alteans could see nothing in the darkness. The beeping continuously quickened, the target growing bigger on the shield.

“Press this button and it should turn on the outside floodlights,” Coran said, pressing the button. As expected, the lights came on and illuminated the area ahead of them. Inside the targeted area was a three headed serpent barrelling toward them, getting brighter and brighter as it came closer. It did not look happy to be sharing its domain with the robotic feline, jaws agape, razor sharp teeth ready to bite down on anything it could grab. “Oh, quiznak,” Coran mumbled, still gripping the back of the seat. This was not good. 

Nafine wasn’t at all eager to find out if the teeth would be able to pierce the lion’s exterior. He jerked the joysticks to the side, narrowly allowing the lion to dodge the maws of the serpent. As the lion wheeled around, three more targets appeared on the screen. Apparently, these things hunted in packs…and it looked like the blue lion was on the menu.


	3. Chapter Three

Shallow, panicked breaths filled the cockpit as Nafine’s white knuckled hands trembled on the controls. With mouths wide open one serpent charged at the blue lion and the paladin screeched as he slammed the lion in a sharp turn, causing it to flip through the water ungracefully, spilling Coran and Alfor to the floor in an unceremonious heap. The lion rumbled and tried to send tranquil thoughts to him but Nafine’s mind was only trained upon the water that engulfed him.

Coran pulled his king up from his tangled position before slamming his shoulder into a corner wall as the blue lion dodged another attack. Alfor moved quickly and latched onto the back of Nafine’s seat. Alfor’s curiosity was now tinged with irritation that one of the lions had chosen such an undisciplined paladin over someone with years of experience like him. Once again, Coran’s hand made its presence known on Alfor’s shoulder. Only now when Alfor turned to face him, Coran stated “We can only teach him the basics in order for us to survive. But this battle is meant for Nafine and the blue lion alone.” Alfor ground his teeth together before finally composing himself and sighed.

The serpents circled through the water around them, dipping into the light that reflected back off of their exposed teeth and slick scales before seeping back into the darkness. The blue lion tracked every flick of the serpents’ tails, claws waiting for the moment Nafine was calm enough to strike. However, the blue paladin was beyond the reach of the lion, his mind trapped in a coil of his own fears that circled through his mind with their barbed hide. Coran placed his hand on the boy’s trembling blue helmet and leaned down to calmly speak in his ear. “Nafine, I am going to place my hand over your eyes. When I do, I need you to focus on what your lion is trying to tell you.” Not waiting for Nafine’s answer, Coran stepped to the side of the chair and in one smooth move, plucked Nafine’s helmet off and blocked his sight with one hand.

No longer focused on the water, Nafine startled out of his trance and lifted his hands to Coran’s. The blue lion took its chance and rushed quickly through the bond. The paladin stiffened as before his blocked gaze a spectral image of the blue lion looked down upon him. The lion walked closer to Nafine and lowered its head so that its nose tapped against him. The lion purred and the frozen paladin slowly rose his arms up to return the lion’s affections. “Safe.”

Coran’s hand remained firmly on Nafine’s face as the blue paladin lowered his hands and returned them to the controls. The lion guided its paladin to a stable position as the sea serpents stopped before them. Coiling its three heads back one serpent launched itself forward. Nafine and his lion dove under the beast’s belly and the lion’s teeth clamped down on the serpent’s tail. The three heads howled and thrashed the lion loose before charging again. The lion slipped upwards and using its back legs, knocked the serpent down to a greater depth and used the momentum to propel upwards. The serpent kicked up a massive amount of debris as it collided with the sandy bottom below, causing the Alteans inside the blue lion to lose their visuals on it. The blue lion growled and a slot within the dashboard opened. Nafine pulled out his bayard and inserted it. 

As the serpent ripped through the sand cover, mouths wide open and fury boiling through its veins, the blue lion opened its maw, charging up its shot. Moments before the middle head struck, the lion released its ice beam firing down the serpent’s throat. Within moments the serpent was frozen from the inside out as the two remaining heads thrashed in agony. As Alfor and Coran watched with eyes blown wide, the sea serpent sank to the murky depths below colliding with one of the others effectively pinning it under its massive frozen weight. The remaining serpents took one final glance at the lion before slinking away.

The blue lion returned to shallower water and once they were back in the sky, Coran finally released Nafine. The blue paladin blinked and shook his head as his eyes adjusted to brighter light. Alfor scratched the back of his head before mumbling, “Well that was certainly something-”

“Grand! Marvelous! Stupendous!” Coran interrupted and plopped the blue helmet back on Nafine’s head. “Nafine, you are truly one ace of a pilot. I mean, we are going to have to get you a blindfold though, but that’s nothing to be glum about!” Nafine slid his fingers inside the helmet’s visor and attempted to brush aside the purple bangs that were now uncomfortably out of place. 

“Are you sure? I mean, everything worked out back there, but if the two of you weren’t here the blue lion would’ve been serpent chow.” The blue lion brushed against his thoughts.

“It’s no use focusing on what may have happened now. The blue lion chose you as its paladin, Nafine, and you certainly live up to the expectations after that battle.” Alfor replied as his own irritation over not being chosen had long since faded away with what remained of the serpents. Nafine blushed, flustered over his king’s praise.

The blue lion returned to its original hanger and after informing Nafine that he would be in touch again as soon as the other lions are ready, Alfor non discreetly pulled Coran aside and made sure he would make quick work of crafting a blindfold for the blue paladin. Regardless of whether or not any of the remaining lions chose Alfor, it was of utmost importance that all five paladins were able to fight in any conditions.

Once he returned to his ship, Alfor ran his hands over his face and inhaled deeply before finally setting course for the green lion.


	4. Chapter Four

Alfor stepped off of the warp pad and onto the soft ground of the forest, filling his lungs with air. The air there was much cleaner than on Altea, the foliage a lush green and rife with the sounds of the creatures within. There was no one around the warp site, although the path was easy enough to find, often trodden and bare of even the undergrowth. A brook ran alongside the path, babbling and rushing. As he entered the forest, he looked up at the thick canopy of the treetops. Most of the sunlight was blocked out from reaching the ground, filtered out by the leaves. His attention was pulled from the treetops to the lower branches ahead of him, where a six eyed, eight legged...whatever it was sat, chattering at him. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he began to pick out other creatures as he walked. He would not have known he was going the right way if not for the fresh carvings of lions in the tree trunks, though they were higher than his head.

The closer he got to the build site, the more frequent the carvings became. The stream snaked away from the path, a large rock at the elbow of the water’s route. On the rock was a smear of dull brown paint, a hand-like pawprint. Alfor noticed that the forest had gone quiet, seemingly holding its breath. He looked around, an uneasy feeling in his gut. His hand rested on the hilt of the broadsword at his hip as he continued down the path, wary. He could see the glint of the sun, reflecting off of something through the trees, presumably the lion. Perhaps that was what had caused the sounds of the forest to cease. He could sense the power seething from the beast. It seemed to emanate outwards, its radiance glaring. It demanded respect, and when he entered the clearing where the beast sat, took in all of its glory, he willingly gave it.

Reaching out with eager mind and eager hand, he tried to grasp at the lion’s essence. He was taken aback when he found that the lion reached elsewhere, into the forest beyond the Altean. This lion was already accounted for. A growl built in his throat, a guttural, unpleasing sound. His heart wrenched, eyes settling on the shape that moved out of the shadows of the trees, joining him in the clearing. His lanky figure easily overshadowed Alfor’s own, and he could easily overpower Alfor if given the chance. The creature was covered from head to toe in mud, claws dripping with the slick. So that was what had put that pawprint on the rock: this sloth man that stood before him. Alfor took a step toward the slothman, and the lion activated, rumbling a warning. Its message was clear: do not harm him. But it was something more. 

This gangly sloth person and the lion, they shared the bond. The bond between paladin and lion. The creature standing before him was the paladin of the green lion, a sloth who had no means of communication with him or the other known paladins. Alfor nodded, lips pursed. He pinched the bridge of his nose. This was really happening. His patience was waning, as was his confidence. Why? Why was he not worthy of the lions? He was a highly skilled pilot, highly regarded and respected throughout the universe, yet the lions did not recognize his potential. He was losing hope, the only lions left unclaimed were the red and the yellow. With a sense of dread, he realized that he may not be graced with the trust of a lion at all. All of his work, all of his careful planning and orchestration, and he’d reap no benefits. 

Alfor was pulled from his thoughts as a shadow came over him. He hadn’t even realized it, but he was kneeling in the dirt, with the green paladin looming above him, blocking out from the light of the planet’s sun. In his tender grasp, the sloth clutched a crown, woven of vines and forest blooms. The mud-covered sloth gently placed the crown on Alfor’s head, a sort of consolation prize. The crown was too big, however, and slid down his head until it rested on either ear. Alfor bit back many, many quiznaks, his shame unbearable. He was incredibly embarrassed at his utter failure. The sloth repositioned the crown on Alfor’s head, draping it over his right ear. With a resigned look, Alfor allowed it. Although no words were spoken, it was clear that the sloth understood how Alfor felt, and seemed to look on him sympathetically. He patted Alfor’s shoulder, trying to console the Altean man. Other sloth people had arrived, watching without interfering. 

After Alfor was done mourning, he pushed himself up off the ground, looking around. He felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment as he saw how many of the indigenous had seen his little shutdown. He cleared his throat, brushing off his knees. That seemed to snap everyone else out of their trance as well, and many disappeared back into the trees, as if they’d overstayed their welcome, leaving the newly crowned paladin and the long time king of Altea mostly alone again.

“Well, I suppose you should get suited up and get acquainted,” Alfor murmured finally, swallowing his wounded pride. “Perhaps after you, ehm, clean off all of that dirt and grime,” he added. The paladin smiled happily at Alfor, setting off to get cleaned up. Alfor sat down on the green lion’s paw with a huff, arms rested on his knees. He stared down at his hands, contemplating. This wasn’t like him at all, to get so frustrated. Nevermind to show it so freely. It was ineloquent of him, and he made a silent vow to himself to display grace under pressure from then on. Even if he weren’t a paladin, that didn’t mean he couldn’t help guide Voltron and offer assistance when needed. Afterall, there was the castle of lions, and he was one of the few who could pilot it and facilitate teludav leaps. He just had to trust that all would go well. 

Once the sloth had cleaned up, Alfor tried to help him into the gear. The sloth was far too long to fit well, and upon trying to put on the gloves, his sharp nails pierced the ends of the fingers. It seemed that the universe was trying to push puzzle pieces into places where they would not fit. Alfor could not help but wonder how this ragtag team could shape up to being the defenders of that universe.


	5. Chapter Five

With the flower crown left sitting behind in his ship, Alfor rubbed the back of his neck and made a mental note to have the new tension knots in his shoulders released after today’s events. He sighed and continued his upward ascent of the massive staircase leading to the red lion until a few burning muscles later and the Altean finally reached the top. Alfor braced himself to be greeted by the work team but to his surprise, not a single soul was around. With great caution the king slowly approached the doors and cracked them open before peering inside where more silence greeted him. He swore inwardly and hoped that the lion hadn’t chosen its paladin and ran off before he could arrive. 

With one hand on the sword at his hip, Alfor walked inside the building. As he traversed deeper inside the hushed whisper of a distant conversation reached his strained senses. Alfor lowered his guard slightly and followed the sound until he emerged into an open room where the red lion sat. The lion’s curling tail and low rumbling purr halted as the king walked in. The voice he had been following continued for a moment more before it too stopped. The red lion turned its head and peered down at the Altean and Alfor was once again reminded that these lions were more than just the growing bane of his existence. They were powerful weapons.

A small head poked out over the railing of the gangway near the red lion’s own head and the Galra called out a tentative “Hello?” Alfor took his hand away from his sword and returned the greeting before making his way up to her. The hairs on his arms stood on end as the red lion’s gaze never left him. The sharp flicking of its tail grated along the metal floor and tapped the beams around it lightly. The Galra cautiously whispered assurances to the lion and brushed its metal nose. As Alfor finally stood before her he noticed that the Galra was a lot shorter than the others he had worked with.

“Pardon my intrusion, I am King Alfor.” The Galra took her hand off of the lion and focused entirely on him.

"Nice to meet you, King Alfor, I am-” the red lion knocked over a stack of metal rods with its tail.

"Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Can you repeat your name?” Alfor chuckled lightly.

“It’s-” the red lion rumbled and Alfor blinked as the Galra smiled politely up at him. He cleared his throat.

“Ah well, Red, I’m glad to see the red lion is awake and functioning as it should. I congratulate you on being chosen as its paladin. Although, I must ask where the rest of the team has gone.” Red furrowed her brow at the nickname he gave her but brushed off her irritation.

“Well, after the lion chose me, they didn’t see a need in sticking around anymore, and many were heartbroken that they didn’t get chosen. So they left. Of course a few tried to bond with the lion anyways, sure that it was a mistake, but they were quickly put in their place.” the lion purred and Red placed her hand back on its nose fondly. “So I’ve been sitting here with it and talking with it. The lion said we needed to strengthen our bond, and what better way to do that than swap stories? Although the red lion doesn’t have very many to tell so I’ve been doing most of the talking.” she laughed and Alfor smiled fondly. Although this was yet another lion that had turned him away for a paladin he was least expecting to be chosen, Alfor accepted this loss with the last of his pride. 

“I’ll leave you both to your bonding then. There is only one more lion for me to check on and then the other paladins of Voltron will be joining you soon.”

"I look forward to meeting them and their lions. We’ll be here when you need us.” Red bid farewell to Alfor, and the Altean returned to his ship. 

Picking up the flower crown, Alfor turned it around his hands slowly regarding each piece of the gift. The flowers were ones he could not recognize but each were different from the next. No two flowers were the same and each had its own purpose in the crown. Various meanings weaved together for one purpose. Alfor sighed and felt the last of his ill feelings leave him. The king was so caught up in his own misgivings about not being chosen by the lions he helped build that he gave no thought to the reason he built them in the first place. He had no right to be so hard on the paladins or their lions. Regardless of their own individual quirks and lifestyles the paladins were chosen for a reason. And once they combined to form Voltron, that reason would grow apparent, much like the gifted flower crown he still held.

Alfor released the crown and set it gently back upon its perch in his ship. Setting in the coordinates for his home planet of Altea, the king felt tired and drained. His high strung emotions and adventures had left behind the need for a soft bed and warm meal. With a sense of calm acceptance, Alfor was ready to meet whatever paladin the yellow lion with grace.


	6. Chapter Six

Alfor felt a sense of relief wash over him when he arrived on Altea; the familiarity was comforting after all of the new experiences he'd had. He walked across the bridge, greeting his escorts and walking with them towards the buildsite of the yellow lion. He had no doubt that the yellow lion’s paladin would already have been chosen and waiting. He did not know, however, who it would be. As they neared, the yellow lion came into view. The stout being, built like a tank, reflected the light of the sun off of its shiny exterior.

Alfor was taken aback by the care that had been taken with its construction. He was now standing at eye level with it, and was able to absorb the beautiful craftsmanship fully. He looked around at the other Alteans there, expecting to see the designated paladin of the lion, but no one stuck out to him. 

“Has the lion chosen its paladin yet?” he asked after taking in everything a moment more. One of the men in his entourage began to answer, but Alfor wasn’t listening; something else had his attention. His eyes narrowed, and he looked back up at the lion. Its eyes had begun to glow the same yellow he’d seen when the other lions were regarding their paladins. The man trailed off, all eyes on Alfor. He seemed to have been sucked into his own head, his vision unwavering, trained on the lion. It was as if all of the secrets of the universe had been made known to him. He gazed into the lion’s eyes, the connection forging rapidly between them.

“I believe it has, sir,” the man said, smirking a little. Everyone around him was beaming, and Alfor’s heart was racing. He reached out his hand, and the lion moved to push its nose into its paladin’s palm. With that, the bond was sealed, and everyone erupted around the lion and Altean King, though the two were almost stone still. As if in a trance, the two stood, minds and bodies connecting, becoming one. Someone brought the paladin armor, and Alfor put it on, appreciating the fit. He was elated, being able to put it on. The idea of being a paladin elated him, and he was antsy to take the lion out for a spin. Alfor knew that the bond had been forged, but it would still need to be strengthened. And now that the yellow lion had its paladin, the team could come together and work on forming Voltron. He had no doubt that some of the other paladins were fledgling pilots, and would need his guidance. 

Once suited up, Alfor went into the lion, sitting down in the pilot’s chair. _His_ chair. He placed his hands on the controls, and the lights on the operation board came to life. The lion shifted a little, ready to take off at the slightest twitch. Alfor moved his hand gently, and the lion moved quickly, the controls touchy. He now understood why Nafine had had some troubles with his lion. Alfor had vast knowledge and experience with piloting, and he still struggled to completely control the lion; granted, he’d just sat down. He began to realize the struggle the Altean technician-turned-paladin of the blue lion was facing. He could only wonder how the green paladin would be handling it. He thought about the flower crown, still sitting in the ship, smirking at the memory and feeling embarrassed at the same time. The murmur of the lion brought Alfor back to the present, almost begging the Altean to let it fly.

After a moment more, Alfor indulged that silent request, pulling on the thrusters. The lion backed up, giving itself room for a running start. Once away from the bridge and building site, Alfor pushed the levers forward, sending the lion rushing down the runway. Its paws thunderously came crashing down with each step, claws grating on the paving. It jumped into the air and was off. It wasn’t long before they were soaring above the clouds, and soon, Alfor was handling the beast like a pro. Once he began to feel really comfortable flying, he decided to make contact with the other paladins.

“Paladins, are you there?” he asked as he descended, back down the surface. He was met with static, and tried a couple more times with no success. As the lion touched down on the ground, he finally made contact. It was Nafine, although Alfor was sure he could hear Coran in the background.

“King Alfor?” Nafine asked, voice somewhat crackly in the headset. The helmets would need some tinkering, but he had to admire the distance the transmission could reach. “Have all of the paladins been chosen?”

“Yes,” Alfor reaffirmed, smiling a little to himself. “We can start to come together now, but the headsets do not transmit as far as I’d originally hoped. I’m going to send you some coordinates, Coran can set them and you can help collect the others,” he said. After he had sent off the coordinates to Nafine and received confirmation that they had arrived, Alfor set out on his own to gather paladins. 

Nearing the planet the red lion was built on, he made contact with its paladin. She came out to meet him, congratulating him before the two left for the green lion’s planet. Red radioed ahead, and by the time they had landed, the green paladin had arrived to greet them, along with others from his troop. The sloths had made some adjustments to the suit, but Alfor realized that it would require further tweaking in order to follow standard protocol. He was relieved to know that the red and green paladins got along, although the Galra could not pronounce the green paladin's name. She dubbed him Basil, and after a bit more socializing, the three set out to meet the others at the rendezvous point.


	7. Chapter Seven

Entering the stratosphere of their designated planet, Alfor locked onto the homing beacon that Zarkon had set up. The lions touched down, the red and green gentler than the yellow, and the pilots met the others on the ground. Alfor was met with an overzealous greeting from Coran, and a cool acknowledgement from Zarkon. The Galra king looked unsurprised by the turnout, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the black lion’s paw. He dwarfed the young blue paladin, who still seemed a bit shaken from their encounter with the serpents. Alfor removed his helmet, tucking it under one arm whilst approaching Zarkon and gripping his forearm firmly. Zarkon took Alfor’s arm in his own hand and they shook, exchanging pleasantries.

Alfor looked up at the black lion, feeling a twinge of envy bubbling inside him, but it was quickly quashed by his pride of being the paladin of one of the legs of Voltron and gratitude of being a paladin at all. Although it wasn’t what he’d originally expected, he had hope that things would work out. He’d yet to see the others’ piloting, and was interested to find out what the other paladins could bring to the table. Zarkon seemed to be thinking the same thing as he spoke, voice booming.

“Paladins,” he started, “it is imperative that we begin training immediately. For the sake of the peace of the universe, we must show that Voltron is not a force to be trifled with. We need to begin bonding with our lions and work towards forming Voltron as soon as possible. Some of us will need more practice with the handling of their lions than others,” he stated, not looking at anyone in particular. “Let us get started,” he finally finished, dismissing the paladins to their lions with a nod of the head. 

Coran joined Alfor in the cockpit of the yellow lion, buzzing with excitement while Alfor prepped the controls. He seemed chipper, undoubtedly happy that his King had been chosen after all. Alfor had replaced his helmet back on his head, the lights of the dash flickering and reflecting off the helmet’s visor.

“Coran, I appreciate your company, but perhaps it’d be better suited with one of the more inexperienced pilots? The paladin of the green lion seemed a bit unsure on the way here,” Alfor murmured to the advisor, flipping a couple of switches and turning dials.

“Ah, yes of course, sir!” Coran piped, scrabbling to leave the lion. Alfor glanced back after hearing a crash and the clang of metal against metal, letting out a sigh. He went back to starting up the lion, an echoing apology reaching him from wherever it was Coran was at that moment. A few ticks later, he saw the red headed Altean run away from the yellow lion towards the green, a thumb held high to signal that he was okay to Alfor.

“Yellow to Green,” Alfor started into his headset, “Coran is on his way.” Once Coran had made it into the green lion, Alfor prepared to take off. He rolled his shoulders, flexing his fingers before wrapping them comfortably around the controls. He stopped when the voice of Nafine shrilled in his ear. The Altean king gritted his teeth, nose scrunching at the high pitched squeal coming out of the headset.

“Quiet!” another voice barked, immediately silencing the blue paladin. It was Zarkon.

“Blue, what is wrong?” Alfor asked, trying to be a bit more soft spoken than the Galra king.

“I don’t know, but there’s lights flashing and alarms going off,” Nafine urged, clearly panicking. “I can’t do this, I don’t know how to. There must’ve been some mistake, I can’t pilot the lion.”

“Take deep breaths,” Alfor ordered, voice even. “Clear your mind, let go of your negative emotions. It was no mistake that you were chosen; you are more connected to your lion than you realize.” He could hear the alarms in the background, under Nafine’s breathing. He listened to him gradually slow, take shallower, more relaxed breaths. As Nafine calmed himself, the sirens ebbed. He listened to the wailing fade until he was unable to hear it anymore. “Let the lion guide you. If you need additional help, Coran will be over soon. Just stay composed.”

“Thank you, King Alfor,” Nafine finally said, seemingly much more relaxed now.  
Alfor cleared his throat. “Ah, Red, how are you faring?”

“Sir, you can just call me—” she was interrupted by more yelling in the headset, and everyone looked out their windshield to see what the fuss was about. The blue lion charged through the rest of the group, taking bounding leaps. It just narrowly missed squashing Coran, who had been walking towards the lion to help Nafine. Alfor swore he could hear Coran counting his lucky stars, even through the thick glass and a great distance higher up.

“Silence, you inept fool!” Zarkon ordered, clearly fed up with Nafine’s lack of restraint. Alfor attempted to protest Zarkon’s aggression, but the Galra would not hear it. He was about to say something more when he was thrown forward with the rest of his lion, and if not for the dashboard and his grip on the controls, Alfor might have smacked face first into the windshield.

“Agh, sorry!” Nafine yelped into the headset, still trying to control a beast that would not be tamed. Alfor could hear the blue lion’s claws scrabbling against the yellow lion’s armor, trying to untangle itself. The yellow lion’s joints groaned in protest as it tried to push itself off the ground.

“Insolent buffoon,” Alfor heard Zarkon mutter under Nafine’s rapid fire apologizing. Zarkon used the black lion’s strength and size to pull the blue lion off of the yellow. By the time the yellow lion was free and the blue lion was restrained, the planet’s sun had set. Alfor was exhausted, to say the least.

“We’ll try again tomorrow,” Alfor murmured tiredly, and Red grunted in agreement. Zarkon elected to actually get in some unobstructed training while the red, blue, and yellow paladins retired to their bunks. Coran reported to Alfor that Basil had fallen asleep sometime during the pile up in his pilot seat, armor, helmet, and all. He also admitted that he did not have the heart to wake the jungle sloth, as he seemed to be having a much better dream than this waking nightmare. This group had a long, _long _way to go before they could call themselves a true team.__


	8. Chapter Eight

By sunrise, everyone was in the commons, eating breakfast; that is, except Nafine. Alfor sent Coran to find him, but even he was stumped after ten minutes of searching. His suit was gone, but his lion was right where he’d left it the previous night. Coran stared at the ground, fingers toying with his mustache absently as he thought. He stopped, pondering the blue lion’s shadow. First ear, small bump, second ear….he did a double take. He looked up again at the lion, towards its head. He couldn’t see anything from that angle, but maybe if he changed his perspective he’d find something different.

Coran trotted around the lion to see the front, and there was Nafine, sitting atop the lion’s head. He was staring at the sun as it began its ascent in the sky, and didn’t seem to have noticed Coran. The Altean advisor hesitated a moment before beginning to climb the lion. By the time he arrived at the lion’s head, he was huffing and gasping for breath. Nafine stood up when he heard Coran, offering a hand to help him. Coran accepted, offering thanks. He steadied himself and caught his breath while Nafine sat back down, resting his forearm on his knee. Once Coran had regained his breath, he sat down next to Nafine. He watched the younger Altean, waiting for the paladin to say something. He looked over at Coran after many moments of silence and staring, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

“Morning,” he finally murmured, before looking back to the sun.

“How long have you been up here?” Coran asked, a quizzical look on his face.

“About a varga or so,” Nafine responded. “I needed some time to think and catch up. I’m a bit overwhelmed right now.”

“It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?” Coran agreed. He, too, looked at the sky. He took in the colors, the fading stars, the soft surfaces of the moons as they hung lazily in space. The gradient of the sky was breathtaking. It all fit together so seamlessly, like a puzzle with all its pieces in place. Nafine was still not sure he saw it that way.

“It’s crazy how fast things have changed. A few Quintants ago, I was just a technician. Now I’ve flown halfway across the universe in a giant robot lion and fought sea snakes with the King of Altea. I’ve never even flown a pod before, let alone a huge, semi-sentient ship that really, no one has ever piloted before. I feel like my mind is mush; I’m still trying to come to grips with all that’s happened. It’s all very confusing,” Nafine murmured, sighing. He turned his hand over as a bright pink bug crawled along his glove, gripping onto the woven fibers. It looked out of place, the blinding fuchsia on the dark, drab grey of the fabric. “I feel so small, like nothing is within my control.”

“I understand,” Coran started. “Well, I understand feeling like you’re being swept along with the current, at least; not so much the giant lion part,” he murmured with a chuckle. “For the record, by the way: data shows that the universe is never ending, so it’s impossible to fly half across it.”

Nafine laughed at that. “I suppose you’re right. We’re pretty far from Altea, though.”

Coran nodded, smiling. “I agree, we are very far from Altea. We’re far from the comfort and familiarity of Altea, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Think of all the new experiences to have and new places to explore; being chosen by the lion has opened so many more options. You may find that you have a better understanding of the universe and your place in it when all's said and done. The possibilities are as endless as the universe!”

With that, the redhead stood up, knuckles propped on his hips. Nafine pushed himself up as well, standing next to Coran. They began climbing down, heading back inside. Red had finished eating and was on the training deck, while Alfor was just finishing up. Basil’s plate looked like it had when Coran first left, its contents barely touched. Basil seemed to be chewing, albeit incredibly slowly. Zarkon had finished eating shortly after Coran had left, and was most likely off doing his own training. Nafine was relieved Zarkon wasn’t there, he had a sneaking suspicion the Galra did not enjoy his presence. He got some lukewarm food and sat down across from Basil, waving a greeting. The sloth stopped chewing and smiled at him for a couple seconds, then went back to chewing. He mostly had greens and fruits on his plate, but it didn’t look like anything Nafine had ever seen. Maybe the jungle sloth had packed from home. The Altean thought about what Coran had said earlier. Although familiar foods from Altea would be a safe bet, he’d never know if he liked other foods if he didn’t try them. Besides, even the largest stores of supplies would eventually spoil or run out.

Once Nafine finished eating, it was back outside to train. He’d have to get a handle on the lion soon. He sat in the pilot’s chair, hands resting on the controls, but the lion wasn’t moving, and he wasn’t making any effort to move it. Instead, he was focusing on clearing his mind and strengthening his bond with the lion. He visualized the bond in his mind, a bridge being built from the ground up. He visualized the supports being connected, linking the lion and him, creating one entity. Nafine’s breathing slowed as he focused, allowing his thoughts to dissipate. He finally started to feel close to the lion, and as he opened his eyes, he was greeted by the light from the sun. He smiled to himself, a feeling of anticipation welling in his gut, though that might’ve been the lion’s reaction.

“All right boy, let’s get to it.”


	9. Chapter Nine

“Watch your footing,” Zarkon rumbled over the com. Nafine had stumbled a bit, but luckily, Voltron had two legs, and Alfor was a bit less burnt out. He was struggling to stay alert, his thoughts scattered and senses dull. They were all getting tired, but all of them knew that one wrong move could be deadly. If Voltron fell, whatever was snaking through the sand beneath them would pull them under, and it’d be game over. The team had picked up on a distress signal earlier, from a planet covered in the shifting dunes. A village of peoples who called themselves Sandwalkers had been terrorized by the creature for weeks before help arrived. They’d tried fruitlessly to kill it, and needed help. Voltron and its paladins were the ones to come to their aid, and here they were.

Although the team had been working together for well over a decafeeb, they still experienced trouble, both external forces and internal turmoil. They’d been going at it for hours, and everyone was stressed and snappy. Each time they went after the beast when it surfaced, it’d be gone again by the time they got to its spot. It was like an oversized, glorified game of whack-a-mole, but clearly, the mole was winning. It was almost like the thing was playing with them, sizing Voltron up. Voltron, too, was taking a beating. Sand had taken to every crevice, every joint, slowing down the mechanics and causing a horrible grating noise when Voltron moved.

“We have to end this fight, we won’t last much longer,” Red urged, checking her stats. Everyone yelled when one of the creature’s two tails caught Voltron in the side. They were almost thrown to the ground and Red blasted her thruster in a last ditch attempt to get them back on their feet. The sand melted under the heat, turning to angry, red liquid. They could see the heat rising from the spot despite the high temperatures of the desert. Falling into that vitrified sand would spell out doom for anyone that was unprotected. That was when an idea popped into the red paladin’s head. “When it surfaces, don’t chase it. Let it come to us,” she murmured. “Yellow and Blue, ready your blasters.”

The ground shook as the beast glided through the sand, the shaking intensified as it neared. The paladins were all nervous, hoping that this would soon be over. Nafine’s hands shook, one hovering over the thruster activator, the other on the handle of the control lever. The ground quaked beneath them, Voltron sinking a bit into the sand as it shifted. Red yelled to start when the beast was about to breach, and both Alfor and Nafine jammed down full throttle on the thrusters. The creature screeched as the very sea of sand it swam turned scathing red, sticking to scales that once glided through it with ease, cooking the meat that was still living. The creature writhed, drops of molten sand upcast as the monster churned. It wasn’t long before the ground settled, the beast dead, and the vitrified sand cooling to a smooth glass. The glare from the sun reflected off of the surface of the glass, and the paladins watched from a safe distance in Voltron.

“Is it over?” Nafine asked, voice wavering with uncertainty. There was a knot in his stomach, and he felt a twinge of guilt. The shrieks of the beast as it was cooked alive still echoed in his mind and made him sick. He felt bad that it had met such a terrible end, but it’d been terrorizing the Sandwalkers and taking their people, homes, and livestock. It wasn’t often that situations were solved like this, but there had been no other options. They’d saved more lives by sacrificing this one, he rationalized. That didn’t mean that he didn’t feel sympathy for the beast. The paladins disassembled Voltron, the lions returning to their separate states. They returned to the Sandwalkers’ village, leaving their lions. The leader of the village came to meet them, thanking Zarkon and the others for their services. They were offered a feast in their honor for their bravery, but Alfor politely declined, as the paladins were eager to get some much needed rest.

The team was mostly quiet as they quickly ate dinner on the ship before going off to do their own things. Nafine still felt shaken by the events of the day. He tried to let out some steam by swimming laps in the pool, but the thought of the creature kept intruding in his mind. He eventually grabbed hold of the side of the pool and just hung on, catching his breath. He wiped the water out of his eyes, panting and looking down at the floor of the pool...or rather, looking up the ceiling of the pool room. After a bit of just hanging out in the water, Nafine got out and dried himself off before heading back to his room to get ready for bed. It wasn't all that late, but tensions were so high that day that he still felt physically and mentally drained. He was eager to put its events behind him, and the next day would present new challenges and things to worry about.


	10. Chapter Ten

Nafine slipped in the sand, feet scrabbling to find purchase. He could feel the ground tremor, the vibrations arcing through the sand like waves. This was bad. All the time he could feel it getting closer, gaining on him. He was running as fast as he could, but no matter how fast he ran, he still knew he was not fast enough. Although he knew that there was no escape, he still could not resign to his fate. He had to keep running, even though his lungs were burning and his body ached.

He risked a glance over his shoulder, and the knot in his stomach felt all the heavier. He saw the sail of the beast gliding through the desert with ease, slicing through the grains of sand like a knife. He fell, but the grit in his mouth was the last thing on his mind. He scrambled to get back on his feet, but it was no use. He quickly abandoned the idea, opting to grab his bayard. It manifested in his hand before quickly transforming into a double bladed sword, the harsh light of the sun glinting off of the shiny surfaces. He knew it would do little for him, but at least he could leave this thing with a nasty memento. The Altean watched his demise barreling toward him, body shivering, despite the heat. Being swallowed alive didn’t seem like a great way to go, but that was the death he faced. He thought about raking the inside of the creature’s throat all the way down with his sword.

The creature turned and tried to get away as a shadow loomed over the spot, and Nafine gazed up. He breathed a sigh of relief: Voltron had come to bail him out. His eyes widened as the realization hit him. If he was on the ground, who was piloting the blue lion? He desperately attempted get out of the way of the giant robot, but he was glued in place. His body wouldn’t listen to him as the heat soared from the burn of the blasters from Voltron’s boots. He heard a scream that he originally thought was from the monster, but then it registered that it was him who was screaming.

Nafine sat bolt upright, panting and gasping in bed. It was too hot, he was too hot. He kicked the covers off of his legs, hand pressed to his temple. He looked around the room, trying to blink away the images ingrained in his eyelids. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, planting his feet on the ground. Time melted away as he sat there, catching his breath. It was a long while before he felt ready to stand, lest his knees buckle and send him falling to the ground. Once he was ready, he stood slowly and crossed the room to the door, placing his hand on the scanner. The door slid open with a quiet hiss and the bottom lights lining the hallway lit a few feet in front of him as he walked down the hall. His door closed again, a damp handprint on the inside scanner. 

“Lowlights, on,” Nafine ordered, entering the kitchen. The gentle blue light of the overheads came on, illuminating the room. Nafine grabbed a water pouch, sitting at the table and sipping quietly. He jumped slightly when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, taken aback by the yellow glow of a sharp gaze. “Red,” he murmured, settling back down. She purred a warm chuckle, blinking.

“You’re up late,” she responded, sliding into the chair opposite him easily. She rested her calf on her other knee, nails clicking on the table. She watched him intently, ears forward.

“I’m always up this late,” he mused nonchalantly. He leaned back in his chair, resting his hands in his lap.

“You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met,” Red retorted, a smirk plastered across her face. “I know you’re lying, because I actually _am_ always up this late. Basil sleeps too much, I don’t sleep enough, and you Alteans are somewhere in the middle. You look like you ran into a particularly grumpy salearek. What’s bothering you?”

“Quiznak,” Nafine murmured, dropping his ruse. “Bad dream,” he finally confessed after taking another swig of his water. His shoulders slumped slightly and he slouched more in his seat. Her only response was a small lean closer, obviously expecting further elaboration. She was almost interrogating him with her eyes, and he was weak to her stare, crumpling under the pressure. Something about Galra eyes had always been unsettling to him. They were incredibly hard to read, and their scrutiny was unwavering. Nafine explained his dream, Red waiting to hear the whole retelling before speaking again.

“So you’re regretting how it ended,” she said softly. She nodded a bit, thinking. “What makes this mission different from the hundreds we’ve done before?” she asked, rubbing her neck. Red was studying him, her ears picking up the sound of his breathing and the rhythm of his heart. He took a moment to respond, and she noted the hitch in his breathing, the quickening of his heartbeat.

“Just the sound it made as we…” he trailed off, and she nodded in understanding. “I don’t think any of our missions have ever turned out like that. It was unnerving. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forget that scream.”

Red’s ears swiveled back, flattening against her head. She felt partially responsible and flushed, feeling guilty that she’d been causing Nafine so much distress. Although she held an aloof disposition, she really did care about the other members of the team. She hadn’t always been this way, but years of shadowing Zarkon and being instructed by him had caused her to harden and take on some of his qualities, both good and bad. He’d taken her under his wing, guiding her, though sometimes she had trouble distinguishing guidance from orders. Much like Zarkon and the Galra in general, Red preferred to suffer in silence and not burden anyone else with her problems. She sighed, pushing her chair back from the table and standing. She walked around the table, pulling Nafine’s ear lightly as she walked past him. “Go back to bed,” she scolded as she tugged. She let go and left the kitchen, probably to either continue her patrol of the castle or go to bed herself. 

He laughed quietly, rubbing his hand on his ear. After sucking down the rest of his water, he got to his feet as well, throwing the pouch into the incinerator and leaving the dining area. “Lowlights, off,” he ordered before the door slid closed behind him, and the features of the kitchen receded to darkness.


End file.
